


Of Love

by NoLongerWriting



Category: Warcraft, Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Love, M/M, Plural, Short Chapters, Vision Of Time, dimension hopping, we'll meet again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoLongerWriting/pseuds/NoLongerWriting
Summary: For every Draenor there is an Azeroth, but in each Azeroth two young lovers do not always meet. In the quest to save his species, Wrathion may learn the meaning of love, honor, family, and country.
Anduin Centric AU's.Inspired off of a Moonguard Chat in LFG.Blame Vinnia.





	1. Chapter 1

Of love 

Chapter One  
For Love

The Timeless Isle, a land of mystery which pulled plenty of adventurers and warlords alike to its foggy shores on a daily basis- at least it seemed to be a daily basis. One could never tell how long they had been there. It could be days or hours spent languishing on a sandy beach or pigging out at a dinner, but none could say it was time wasted. Wrathion had found himself loath to leave the warm shores, but looking into Kairoz's hourglass he could see the countless hours he had spent with Anduin playing out before him.

They were endless to the young eyes, living in the present, the now. Eyes which could see that a future was coming, but when faced by the heralding images found them daunting, unnerving. Those so young with endless time on their hands hardly contemplate their future. Anduin had forever, or so Wrathion had thought. Watching the years go by Wrathion saw how mortals were just that- mortal. Wrathion had forever, but Anduin did not.

"You care for him, don't you?" The Bronze dragon snickered behind his Elven facade. "They don't live as long as us- you can't possibly hope to make such an arrangement last, little one." 

Wrathion's eyes burned with a violent vermilion glow as the Bronze continued. He wanted to call his guards, expose this plot which was so risky. Too risky. Just why was the Black Prince allowing this to go on? Well, the salvation of his species for a start. 

The amalgamation which the Reds made him from was a miss matched bucket of parts gathered by an overly excited adventurer. No complete function of his reproductive system could have been salvaged from the parts he was borne of. The Bronze had an answer, the Vision of Time. An endless gateway of worlds for him to visit, and the only way for him to gather followers. Indeed, this is exactly their shared machination, an endless army of Orcs for Kairoz to use against the Legion; an endless amount of worlds where his family had yet to fall into corruption. However, Wrathion mused, for every Draenor there was an Azeroth, and for every Azeroth there was a light of hope. Think of all the wars which could be stopped if the Orcs never invaded, all the mindless quarrels of the Alliance and Horde which would never come to pass! All Wrathion had to do was delay Anduin and allow Garrosh to escape- all to save his species, and all of Azeroth, from extinction! 

Could he do it? Wrathion knew that Anduin would see this as a treachery, as the loss of their friendship and whatever else they had blossoming recently between them. The last night filled with Jihui, with a heartwarming talk of fathers, and promises for a future where they both would win this game shared between just them. The slight smile Anduin offered Wrathion, illuminated by starlight, held dim when compared to the prince's clear eyes. Wrathion needed that future, he craved it like his family craved jewels and titles. He had not lied to the Horde or Alliance, he could support both sides. He would not lie to Anduin. But Azeroth needed the Black Flight to restore balance to the environment. Thrall could not be Earthwarder forever, and Wrathion would die one day as well. 

Not even dragons are infinite. Even when they had a forever. Something Kairoz knew and feared. 

Not many two year olds thought about death, even dragon whelps. Something Wrathion knew and feared. However much its proximity caught him off guard. 

"Do not speak of him so. Give me a night to think on this." Wrathion turned to leave, ready to forget about the Bronze traitor's plans. 

"We mate for life, you know. You'll be alone for eons with only memories. Twenty years of a prime, and the rest in decay until you have lived only one one thousandth of your life, and are doomed to be alone until the end. With this, you can make the difference. With this you can make the changes necessary to have him live with you forever in the youthful glee shared now." Wrathion's step faltered, but he kept going.

"You love him, don't you?" The words rolled around in Wrathion's mind as he walked past Anduin's room. Inside the guarded chamber was a boy, nearly a man, with eyes as deep at the sea his city was famous for, and hair as golden as the gritty beaches which held his father's merchant ships. The guards payed him no mind, having grown used to the presence of the Black Prince over the princes shared travels- one could hardly believe it had been a year already. The calm of the night ticked on with each breath taken in and out of those both awake and asleep. The delicate body which had been scarred by a bell of peace lay still and free of the chronic pains it felt in the daytime. 

He had made his choice. He had already spent half his life with this man, a few months in return for the rest of it couldn't possibly be a bad investment.

The corridor was long, quiet, and dark. Wrathion controlled his anxiety as he walked further and further away from the White Pawn's room. Gripping the knobby door handle, Wrathion found his palms to be sweaty, his breathing erratic, and heart uncontrolled. It thumped like Orcish wardrums in his veins, ears, and chest. 'Please don't hate me Anduin, I do this for our future.' 

The next day would pass in a blur, Anduin's shock at Wrathion's betrayal. The pain Wrathion knew would come, but felt when Anduin expected his once friend to end him. He could never kill Anduin. By knocking the other prince unconscious Wrathion was able to spare Anduin from Garrosh's cronies. The sands of the Vision swirled about the courtroom floor counterclockwise, pulling variations of the heroes and leaders in the room from across the time ways. 

'I'm doing this for him,' Wrathion repeated to himself as the world in front of him shifted into something completely different.


	2. Home is Where the Heart Is

Of Love Chapter 2

Maybe Not This World, Somewhere Else. 

That was a long time ago now, the nights spent with the Prince of Stormwind in an inn on top of a misty mountain veiled by the stars were all but a guarded memory. There was a time when Wrathion felt that the tide of the war was turning, that he should defect to the Alliance and give the young prince his full aid and attention. When King Varian would dismantle the Horde- such a perfect oppertunity wasted. Perhaps he should of forgone the Alliance and just thrown in his lot with the Kirin'Tor! Now, Wrathion sat in Admiral Taylor's garrison, not a plushy pandaren room but a dark prison cell. Predictably, and inexcusably, positively bored. Left had accompanied her prince into the military base while Right put up a front in the Horde base across the gorge. So long as he had his faithful Blacktalons, he held no fear for the gallows which could be seen outside his window. There had already been executions, Taylor made no allotment for mutiny in this hostile world. It was a Death Knight the other day, he had failed to control his bloodlust; others had paid the price before he paid for his own deeds. Although the view from the window was morbid, it did nothing to compare to the broken body of Kairoz in Nagrand. 

The prisoner felt his throat constrict, his back tense, and his toes sweat at the memory. So soon after their landing had Garrosh disposed of his accomplice- surely he would have done the same to the Black Prince if they had arrived in a group. Garrosh held no ties, and it had always been folly to believe one could build them with such a monster. 

Mortals were tired of dragon meddling, something the species just couldn't resist. It was the Age of Mortal's, and be it by decree or an axe to a serpentine head they would have their way. What would Chromie say when she saw her own Time Lost Prince's broken body in the glade? Would she ever know that her mate had wanted her dead, that he had foreseen both their deaths and chose to call it quits before it would be painful; did she already know? Would she hold Wrathion responsible for Kairoz's betrayal? Could Gnomes cry when dragons couldn't? Wrathion shuddered, he already had enough guilt on him for his own betrayal. She'd surely be looking for their 'group' after their unexpected exit from the trial now. The Bronze dragon always was accompanied by an adventurer, it was just a matter of time until her new champion was chosen. 

Silently, Wrathion hoped that of all adventurers, the Bronze would not choose Anduin. There was a guilt which could not be spoken, but there was also a duty which must be done. He couldn't face his only friend, the object of his affections just yet. Let it be a hunter, a warrior, a mage, anything but one certain priest who held his heart in such a vice. 

He was lucky that Garrosh had not searched the drake's body after the slaughter. Reaching into a hidden pouch on his person, Wrathion felt for the Vision of Time. The hourglass was smooth and cool against his fingertips, the muggy weather outside unable to permeate the flow of sand within. 

The important thing was that this hourglass was real. It was cool, and eternal, but real. The one item to be his ticket out of this Orc infested land. This garrison wasn't so bad, however the thought of what was to come next was. The Death Knight was only the beginning; Taylor should have known that the undead, even if they still look human, react first to signs of necromancy. The people within this garrison were in grave danger, and despite his best recruiting efforts Left and Right were unable to gather more than a few deserters each. 

A rapping came at the door, quickly Wrathion hid the bauble before sitting up and righting his dusty, sweat covered clothes. A human female walked in, her hair a light auburn and her skin the color of mountains. Bowing quickly, she began, "Your Highness, although you had wished to remain in this area for a longer stay-" she frowned at his clothing, walked over to a trunk by the wall and removed a guard uniform. "I fear that we are running out of time. Here, put these on." Taking out a set of keys she unlocked the cell door and began disrobing her prince before he swatted her hands away.

"Thank you Right, but I'm fine. Is Left outside the Garrison at the moment?" Slipping the leather and chain mail over his head, he fiddled with the tassels to tie the equipment down. 

"Yes, she and the Horde base deserters are waiting for us in the gully down by the shore." She reached forward, and retird the tasseled yarn from sloppy nots into bows. Looking up at the pouting Prince, she shook her head, "My apologies." 

"It's fine, it's fine." Wrathion smiled, she had been there since he was an egg, she was bound to baby him. Placing a helmet on his head the disguise was complete. "I'll be waiting outside. Fetch the Alliance who wish to follow." But Right only shook her head. 

"I'm afraid there were none, your highness. I shall accompany you out to make sure the path is clear." 

Nodding, he turned towards the doorframe. "Their loss. We shall make for the underbrush then while we await Left's party. I pray that she has been more productive in her findings." Walking out of the building, Wrathion felt the sea breeze, the salt in the muggy air which could almost be tasted. It reminded him of the Jade Forrest, and the stories from the Hozen out back. 

Although Anduin had traveled through the Jade Forest, he preferred not to go into detail on his internment. Like Anduin, Wrathion was about to simply walk away from his captors during their most exploitable time. 

Passing the inn, Wrathion paused for a moment when a small pug began to sniff him- dogs always had a knack for seeing through disguises. Instead of sounding an alarm, the small fluff ball yipped before it ran back inside to a cacophony of drunken laughter. How many were in there? He couldn't save them all. How many could he have saved? 

Twenty more steps. How many would of killed him on sight? Ten more steps. How could he assure that these deserters would not leave him without looking back as they did right now? No more steps. He was out. Banking a sharp right he went through the foothills until he came across four Blood Elves, an Undead, and one beaming Orc. "Your majesty." Left smiled as she bowed her head slightly, too proud to ever curtsey or bend the knee for another. 

Well, not any other… 

"I've missed your face Left, I trust that the Horde encampment was to your liking?" The Orc blushed as the human woman addressing her leapt forward. Catching the rogue, Left smiled with a lopsided toothy grin, her nose ring hitting the side of her face as she nuzzled her mate. The deserters seemed confused at the lack of formality, weren't they headed on an important mission? 

"I fear that I have grown soft while protecting you, the state beds are not as," she looked down to the woman in her arms, her grin turning wicked, "rewarding as those in Pandaria." A chuckle was shared between them as they seperated. 

As dusk fell upon this strange new world, a scream came from the Alliance encampment; the ritual had begun. Left became tense as she waited with Wrathion. A whisper came from one of the Blood Elves, "There, look!"

The screams had subsided, and in their place only the icor of fel energies remained. The tinge of spirit energies lit the sky, wraiths circling this now unholy ground. All the while the Horde camp grew more and more restless, fire burning anew as scouts on worgs ran forward. To aid the Alliance, or to take advantage of the situation, only they could decide their mortal ends to their mortal means. 

"When my Blacktalons and I first were transported to this world, there were anomalies on both sides of the magical field. We shall surely leave our mark here, while in a time much different than this we shall land apart from each other. Be sure to look out for one another as we continue." Twisting the Vision three times it began to spin rapidly in his hand, the deserters, no, Blacktalons reached out to one another as light engulfed them. 

Where they had been standing was only a crater filled with spooked wildlife, and a garrison filled with the ghosts of souls trapped forever in one moment of time. Across the land, a small Gnome perked her head up, heaving with exertion after her own battle with a ghost. Waiting for the adventurer to leave, she waited and watched.

"Khadgar, did you feel that?" 

"I felt a slight twinge in the Ley Lines, someone is doing some serious magic over by the Horde and Alliance encampments!" He looked back at her, fiddling around with a map, "I think that we should check it out, Cordana already must be ready to skin me for leaving Zangarra without her." 

"Indubitably, my champion. We should get moving- otherwise she might find you faster!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Althoug ghosts are common in Warcraft Lore, a whole town being turned has only happened once or twice. The Necromancer's goal was to harvest their life energy, but something kept those living in Taylor's Garrison long after The Necromancer was destroyed. 
> 
> After images of the past? A moment trapped in time?
> 
> Maybe they're only a Vision.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that the tag on Ao3 and tumblr has been slow lately, so I wanted to contribute a little something to keep the fans alive during this Wranduin drought. 
> 
> We shall survive and prosper. Do not let the ship die. Continue to squeal, talk about the lore, and comparability of the characters until even the developers must acknowledge the ship.
> 
> We can make it though.


End file.
